


Make me feel missed

by ConvenientAlias



Series: Jing Fei Lives! [2]
Category: Marco Polo (TV)
Genre: But just a little, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Voyeurism, but mostly - Freeform, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 01:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConvenientAlias/pseuds/ConvenientAlias
Summary: Mei Lin bribes the guard to leave her and Jing Fei alone, intending to talk. Jing Fei can think of better things they could be doing.





	Make me feel missed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heartfullofelves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartfullofelves/gifts).



Thanks to Chabi’s prohibition—maybe motivated by spite or maybe by caution, hard to say—it is a while before Mei Lin is able to spend time with Jing Fei alone. Ahmad eats with them when he can, and when he is not around there are always guards nearby, or other servants, watching, spying. Mei Lin wants to scream at them that she is doing nothing wrong. She isn’t plotting against Kublai and Khanbaliq; there is no reason to do that anymore. While she might resent Kublai for destroying her home and Chabi for taking her daughter, she knows she is dependent on them and on Ahmad. And what would she even do?

But apparently their view is once a traitor, always a traitor. Mei Lin was a concubine who tried to kill an empress, so she will never be trusted—this is sensible. Jing Fei betrayed her last master, Jia Sidao, on Mei Lin’s behalf, so they will not trust her either. Mei Lin doesn’t see the sense in that, doesn’t believe Jing Fei would defy the Mongol court for Mei Lin at this point, but then, she never saw why Jing Fei was so loyal to her in the first place. They were (are) lovers, but that has never created loyalty between her and anyone else. From the first customer she had as a teenager to the Song Emperor himself, she was never anyone’s priority until Jing Fei.

She wants to ask Jing Fei, _why did you do it? Why did you lie for me, and why did you save my daughter, why did you risk your life?_ But she can’t do it with others watching. It’s not something to say over dinner, with Ahmad carefully curating the conversation. It’s not something to ask in front of a maid, or a guard, or anyone really. She needs to get Jing Fei alone to talk about something like that.

It takes her a long time to manage it. But there are always ways. One of the guards watching her clearly is a little soft for her. She mentions a few times around him how much she misses her friend, how she feels even a little estranged now. Then one day when the guard is watching her and Jing Fei she plucks an expensive pin from Jing Fei’s hair and hands it to him, and says, “I want to talk to my friend.”

He nods, brow furrowed.

“This would be a token of our appreciation, if you were to allow it.” She looks at him as pathetically as she can. She needs his sympathy to win over his moral sense; he needs to think this is altruistic, while the same time the pin’s elegance and the small jewel encrusted on its end work on his mind. At last he leaves them, saying he will give them the room to themselves, but stay outside the door.

She turns to Jing Fei intending to talk, but Jing Fei pulls her closer by her arms and mashes their lips together. Her eagerness robs her of her usual technique, but Mei Lin, while startled, hardly minds. She nudges her tongue into Jing Fei’s mouth and moves it back and forth. Jing Fei groans and leans into her, giving her the full weight of her torso—Mei Lin is well able to steady her, to take her force. They finally pull apart, Jing Fei leaving a last bit on her bottom lip.

She takes a deep breath. This is a time for conversation. She disposed of the guard for that, not… _this_. But Jing Fei is already pulling at the ties of her robe, making quick work of them. They are both wearing simple Mongol-style dress, and it is much easier to discard than some of the clothes they might wear back in Xianyang. With a man, they know how to undress slowly, tantalizing and teasing. But they know each others’ bodies well enough to not go crazy with the slow revelation of a leg, besides which after the time they’ve spent apart, they’ve already been fasting for long enough.

She is naked before she really has time to think. “Jing Fei,” she murmurs, giving her a warning look.

“I’ll be quiet. He won’t hear,” Jing Fei promises. She shrugs. “If he does hear, that will just make him more likely to agree next time.”

“Jing Fei…”

Jing Fei begins to take off her own robe, which is equally simple, as both were provided by Ahmad. Mei Lin has wondered in the past couple weeks how Jing Fei feels about these new, simple clothes—if there was one thing Jing Fei loved about life at the Song court, it was the fine living. But the thought passes out of her mind now as clean white cloth falls to the ground and Jing Fei, fully naked, crawls over it and sits on Mei Lin’s lap.

There are easier ways to manage a clandestine affair, if that were even what Mei Lin intended for this meaning. Jing Fei is treating this like a professional appointment, like it follows steps: first you tease, then you strip, then you follow through. Easier to do this with their clothes on, and less precarious with a guard outside the door. Mei Lin laughs a little at Jing Fei’s daring, and Jing Fei grins. She always loves when she can make Mei Lin laugh, when Mei Lin is pleased with her. She has been like this ever since they first met. Then she was more shy about it—now she absolutely gloats.

And as Jing Fei sucks a kiss onto Mei Lin’s collarbone, Mei Lin reaches out to grasp Jing Fei’s back, and then stops, struck cold, hands resting slightly on her spine.

The skin there is rough. Frowning, she moves her hands down, feeling bumps and lines that are not natural, do not align with ribs or spinal cord. Jing Fei must notice her hands being more analytical than affectionate, because she pulls away and pushes Mei Lin’s arms down.

Mei Lin looks at her in question.

“I told you he had me beaten.” Jing Fei’s voice is businesslike and her face has set itself into a neutral expression. “If it does not please you, there are other places you can touch.”

As if she were a customer instead of a lover and friend.

“Your scars do not disturb me,” Mei Lin says.

Jing Fei purses her lips. “Still. Maybe you should not touch them.” Her hands twist in the fabric of the robe she dropped on the floor. “I can put something on to cover my back.”

“That is unnecessary.”

“I’ll leave it open.” Jing Fei smiles a bright, fake, talking-to-a-patron smile. “You can see my breasts and as for the back…you can wonder.” She is practically purring as she begins to pick up the robe.

“I do not care about your scars.”

Perhaps her voice is sharper than she intends it to be, because Jing Fei jerks away, and she does put on the robe now, only draping it over herself lightly. “You do not have to pretend to want something you don’t.”

“It would be hypocritical for me to be disgusted. After all, I put them there.”

Jing Fei turns and stares at her, disbelieving. Then she shakes her head. “Mei Lin, no.”

“You got them for what you did out of loyalty to me. I caused them.” She lifts up a hand. It is shaking. “If you let me, I will touch.”

Jing Fei gently pushes the hand back down to Mei Lin’s lap, but she squeezes it. “You are a little proud.”

“What?”

“I wanted to protect a little girl I cared for. I love Ling-Ling like my own child, you know that.” She looks Mei Lin in the eyes. “I did what I did for my own reasons. I did not do it for you.”

“My brother did it to you,” Mei Lin says. “I don’t know how you can stand me, after what he did.” The guilt, the fear of rejection, that has built up in her since Jing Fei’s arrival, makes her tremble.

Jing Fei embraces her. She is warm, and when Mei Lin’s arms wrap around her the cloth is soft. Their breasts push together idly—Mei Lin is still aroused, although she feels ashamed of that right now. But more than any of that, she focuses on Jing Fei’s arms, now covered by her robe but very familiar. She has held Mei Lin a hundred times, a thousand times. Mei Lin knows the shape of her. It is her stronghold. It is something she is not sure she deserves.

“None of this is your fault,” Jing Fei says softly. “Jia Sidao was his own man, and I am my own woman. You weren’t even there.”

“I should have been—”

“It was not your fault.” Jing Fei is firm. She pulls away. “We can talk about this. Or…” She puts a hand on Mei Lin’s breast, presses lightly on a hard nipple. “…we can do other things.”

Mei Lin wants to talk, but she can tell that isn’t what Jing Fei wants, not right now. She nods and lets Jing Fei interpret that as she likes. Jing Fei smiles. She puts her head down and licks Mei Lin’s nipple, quick and warm and wet. Mei Lin gasps. She holds onto Jing Fei’s neck as Jing Fei works her way down from breast to groin, slowly and surely, too absorbed in devouring Mei Lin to even allow Mei Lin the chance to reciprocate. It has been a while since Mei Lin last felt this pleasure, unaccompanied by fear or a need to regulate her own reactions. She gasps and moans. She is being too loud, possibly. The guard outside the door will know what they are doing. She spares him a brief thought, but it is impossible to care about that, about anything but Jing Fei’s hands and her wicked, wicked tongue. She is coming apart and Jing Fei knows it. Delights in it.

“You know, I missed you,” Jing Fei says, when she has made Mei Lin come twice already and Mei Lin is completely exhausted, hair a mess, breath ragged, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I missed talking to you. I missed my friend. But.” She grins and runs a hand down Mei Lin’s torso. “Mostly I missed your body.”

“Pervert.” Mei Lin shakes her head. She’d never dare to say something like that to anyone else she’s slept with, but with Jing Fei it’s fine, even though Jing Fei is the only one for whom it might not be true.

“Hello, Mei Lin’s body.” Jing Fei kisses Mei Lin’s sternum. “I missed you.”

“It missed you too.”

“Oh?” Jing Fei squeezes Mei Lin’s breasts. “Will you tell me what it missed me doing?”

Mei Lin wets her lips. “It missed your fingers in its cunt.”

Jing Fei chokes on a laugh. Neither of them has a polite tongue but Mei Lin is the blunter one of them, and she can still take Jing Fei by surprise. “Oh, well perhaps they had better return for a while then.”

“I think they’d better.”

They don’t end up talking that much. Jing Fei, moved by a desire to pleasure Mei Lin, barely lets Mei Lin kiss or touch her—she is too eager, and Mei Lin is too overwhelmed to really object. It’s been a long time since someone just tried to make her feel good. The Mongol court and the Song court are too full of games and politics for something as honest as this. She does not know how she is so lucky as to have it with Jing Fei, but she is properly grateful.

When the guard finally comes back in after much too much time to have merely facilitated a conversation, they are fully robed and Jing Fei has fixed Mei Lin’s hair. He does not meet their eyes. Jing Fei says, “Thank you for allowing us our privacy. It has been so long since Mei Lin and I have talked.”

He nods. “I hope you had a good conversation.”

“Oh, it was very enjoyable,” Mei Lin says.

He is awkward, but he doesn’t seem to feel guilty about leaving them alone. Probably this is the best fantasy fodder he’s come across in months. Mei Lin doesn’t mind—Concubines are meant for fantasy, after all, and as long as she gets what she wants, it’s all fine. Next time it might even be easier to get him to leave. She smiles warmly and gratefully at him, and Jing Fei does the same. Yes, she is already thinking of a next time. Jing Fei is addictive, as she has known now for years. Besides, they still really should talk a bit more, even though she has to admit that Jing Fei’s alternative is very pleasant indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt of "Jing Fei/Mei Lin + “None of this is your fault”." I swear this was originally about that but then, much like Mei Lin, I got distracted.  
> Anyways, a follow-up to my last Jing Fei/Mei Lin fic, so it might make more sense if you read that one. Though I'm sure the PWP aspect makes sense on its own.  
> Comments and kudos are welcome, or come talk to me on tumblr at convenientalias!


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